


Of Birthdays, Boyfriends and Dinosaurs

by Everlind



Series: Ever After verse [9]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Dinosaurs, M/M, Marui Bunta and cakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:38:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlind/pseuds/Everlind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shishido turns twenty-five in a week and Ohtori really doesn't know what to get him. And Shishido is not helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Of Birthdays , Boyfriends and Dinosaurs  
**

When he comes home, it takes all of Ohtori's patience and balance to survive toeing off his shoes, closing the door and not dropping any groceries as he does so. Seeing as Shishido always kicks his trainers off and dumps them randomly, instead of lining them up (something Shishido fails to do no matter how much they quarrel about it), the short distance from the door and past the hall is perilous. 

"Tadaima," he calls out as he dumps the bags on the counter.

There's no response.

What with loud and obnoxious rock music blasting in their bedroom, loud enough to rattle the pictures against the walls, it's no surprise that Shishido doesn't hear him.

Ohtori sighs and rubs his temples. He's tired. It was a rough day at work, traffic was bad, most of the items on the grocery list were sold out and it started raining just as he got out of the car. 

And now his boyfriend is acting like a fifteen year old instead of the (in a week) twenty-five year old he's supposed to be. It's like living with a teenager.

Pancake gives him a baleful look from where's she's curled up on the couch. She seems to say 'he's at it again'. Ohtori rubs her ears consolingly.

Fully intending to barge into the bedroom and start shouting, Ohtori opens the door. And just comes up short and... stares. All his ire, his frustration and exhaustion melts away when he sees Shishido all but jumping on the bed, air-guitaring, dressed in nothing but his T-Rex boxer shorts.

Smiling, he sneaks back into the living room and fetches the camera. 

He gets an excellent shot, just as Shishido does a mid-air turn, hair wild and expression comical.

The flash alerts Shishido of his presence. He stops jumping and goes bright red. 

"Hi," Ohtori says, not bothering to hide his grin.

"Er. I- ah. You. Are back. Very soon," Shishido replies while he hastily cuts the music off during a wild and shuddering guitar-solo. Then he adds a mortified, "give me the camera."

"No."

"Give."

"No."

"Choutarou!"

"What?"

"I'm keeping you because you were advertised to be a nice, obedient kouhai," Shishido says as he hops off the bed and walks over. "Give the camera. Now."

Shishido makes a grab. Ohtori stretches his arm up and holds the camera over his head. To reach it now, Shishido would need to get a chair. Ohtori smiles at his scowl, "I thought you kept me for the sex."

"That too," Shishido amends. "Choutarou. Give. Me. That. Camera."

"No," Choutarou says, planting a kiss somewhere near Shishido's ear. "I think Mukahi-san will be very happy to get mail from me today."

Shishido gapes. And continues to gape even though Ohtori manages to land a more accurate kiss on his parted mouth. 

Then he lunges. 

Wrestling, Shishido manhandles him towards the bed and shoves him onto it. The camera somehow survives, landing on one the pillows that got tossed off the bed by Shishido's jumping. Ohtori is much heavier and taller. Shishido is faster and is a sneaky tickler. Neither of them wins. More pillows go flying as they struggle. Shishido straddles and tickles, Ohtori flips them and near crushes him as he rest his full weight on him. They roll one way, then the other.

Eventually Shishido cracks his head against the headboard during a wild escape maneuver. So that's how Ohtori ends up with Shishido curled against him, rubbing the rapidly swelling lump. He's still in his shirt and tie from work, but Shishido pops open buttons until he can draw Ohtori's shirt wide enough to rest his cheek on a bare shoulder. 

He settles against him and grumbles, "It's my birthday. You're supposed to be nice to me. Blackmail is not nice."

"Your birthday isn't for another week," Ohtori points out. Shishido's short hair is thick and smooth between his fingers as he combs through it. 

Shishido grumbles some more. He's _bad_ at waiting.

Smiling into the wild disarrayed mess of hair and kissing the lump, Ohtori asks, "What do you want for your birthday?"

  
by [**Namae_nashi**](http://namae-nashi.livejournal.com/)

"A new boyfriend," Shishido replies promptly. "A nice one."

"Hmm, sorry," Ohtori says. "I think they're fresh out of those. Pick something else."

"A new father-in-law?" Shishido tries.

Ohtori stops smiling, but doesn't frown. "Ryou," he says softly, his heart giving a squeeze.

"Kidding," Shishido says lightly and uncurls enough to wriggle on top of him. He's slight enough to comfortably fold his arms over Ohtori's chest and rest his chin on top of them. One thigh wedges between Ohtori's legs. A kiss is planted against Ohtori's chin.

"Try again," Ohtori says.

"Sex."

"Ryou."

"What?"

"Serious."

"Painfully so," Shishido says with a lop-sided grin. "Congratulatory blow-job then?"

"Ryou."

"Hand-job."

" _Ryou_."

"An erotic massage?"

"Ryou!"

"...a kiss?"

Ohtori just looks at him. 

Shishido relents with a sigh of epic proportions. "I'll think about it," he says.

***

Even though the worst of his black mood was lifted by Shishido being... well, _Shishido_ , it dissolves completely when Shishido makes dinner even though it isn't his turn. Ohtori sits at the kitchen table and pretends to read the newspaper, but actually just keeps an eye on his partner. The fact that Shishido turned out to be a great cook (Ohtori was deeply surprised) doesn't take a away from the fact that Shishido is also _dangerous_ in the kitchen.

Shishido is too hasty and rough. And as kitchens usually come with a wide arrange of pointy and sharp objects and just-a-button-away fire, Ohtori usually fears for his life. _Shishido's_ life.

"... and then Jiroh fell asleep with his head in a puddle of ketchup. The idiot." Shishido says, rolling his eyes at Ohtori. 

The knife goes _chop chop chop chop_ through the carrot, approaching Shishido's fingers.

"Ryou-" he starts, but it is too late.

" _Ah_! Fucking shit," Shishido hisses as he slices into his index finger.

Within a heartbeat Othori pushes away from the table and catches Shishido's hand. Then Ohtori sucks the blood from the finger carefully while Shishido stirs the bubbling stew in the pot. At least, when he's not distracted by how the digit slides between pursed lips.

"Choutarou..." he groans.

Releasing the finger with a wet pop, Ohtori reaches for a band-aid. He's made sure to position them strategically around the house. Naturally, the kitchen sports a first-aid kit with the full works. "Stew," he reminds Shishido.

Shishido stirs it absentmindedly. 

After dabbing on some disinfectant, Ohtori wraps the band-aid around Shishido's finger. Then he stands behind him and nuzzles Shishido's neck as the latter finishes preparing dinner. After putting down some plates they sit together and talk about their day at work. Shishido complains about the Kirihara twins. Ohtori complains about Oshitari. It makes them both feel better.

"So," Ohtori says when they do the dishes together. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"A new left index finger," Shishido replies readily.

Ohtori elbows him.

"Or, failing that, sex," Shishido amends.

Ohtori slaps his forehead, forgetting his hand is covered in dirty dishwater suds. There's a snort of laughter to his right.

Ohtori elbows him again.

***

During lunch-break Ohtori surfs the net in hope of stumbling across the perfect gift. The browser flickers with loud and colorful graphic sites. Comic books and movies and t-shirts with rude or just downright strange messages across the front. Nothing seems good enough, just the same old.

"I'm pretty sure someone mentioned that surfing during work-hours is a big no-no," Oshitari whispers into his ear.

Ohtori jumps in surprise.

"If you don't yield that egg-roll, I'm telling our boss," Oshitari says. 

"I'm on lunch-break," Ohtori tells him, but yields the roll from the bento Shishido prepared this morning.

Oshitari's face smoothes out with delight as he pops it into his mouth. "Aaah, just perfect," he moans as though the mere taste of it is orgasm-inducing. "I don't suppose you've come around about that whole let's-swap-lovers-thing?"

The look on Ohtori's face says enough.

"Gakuto is very.... bendable," Oshitari tempts, hands sketching a position that is impossible and possibly fatal for any humans to attempt. 

Ohtori turns his back to him with a suffering sigh.

"So, what are you looking at?" Oshitari asks, crossing his arms over the back of Ohtori's chair and peering along over his shoulder. "Star Wars merchandise... I thought that was more Ryou's ongoing obsession."

"It is," Ohtori agrees, frowning as Oshitari breathes heavily into his ear. "I'm hoping to get an idea for what I could get him."

"Ah, yes," Oshitari nods and straightens up. "Next Tuesday, right? Gakuto already got him something suitably dorky."

With a click he closes the browser and swivels to face Oshitari. "Then what am I to get him?" he exclaims. Jiroh is also giving Shishido something related to the wide and disturbing word of comics and super-heroes. So Ohtori can't do _that_ anymore.

Oshitari shrugs. "Ask him," he suggests.

"I did."

"And?"

"Says he wants sex," Ohtori manages casually enough. But he still blushes. Damn his pale complexion. 

"...and the problem is?" Oshitari counters, highly amused.

He'd tell Oshitari that he gets Shishido that almost every day, but he's still not quite that open. Having Oshitari-san as a colleague and consequently interacting with him on daily basis has done worlds for his reservation relating to all things, well, _sexual_ , but not that quite much.

Oshitari surmises it anyway from the look on his face. "I see," he says with a smirk. "Get him a dog. Ryou likes dogs. They have a lot in common, so he'll have someone to talk to."

Rolling his eyes at Oshitari's open teasing of his partner even though he'll suggest to swap in the same breath, Ohtori shakes his head. "We have Pancake. Our cat."

"Dogs like cats," Oshitari says.

"For dinner," Ohtori adds exasperatedly. "You're not being any help Oshitari-san."

Oshitari smiles and walks over to the door, "Who said I'm here to _help_?" 

***

He's running out of days. 

Ohtori looks down at the dark tumble of hair that is Shishido's head resting against his chest. With every intake of air his head rises along, with every exhale it goes down. Over the years Shishido has perfected a position for being plastered all over Ohtori without exactly being in his lap. It's an ideal position to watch TV together. Pancake is curled half on the back of the couch, the rest of her hangs limp in the back of Ohtori's neck. Her purring drowns out even the roars of the dinosaurs onscreen.

They're watching _Jurassic Park_. Shishido's pick, of course.

"Ryou," Ohtori says, smoothing the dark hair away so he can peer down at his face. "What do you want for your birthday" -he quickly clamps a hand over Shishido's mouth- "and don't say sex."

After drooling copiously on his palm so that Ohtori snatches his hand away, Shishido wriggles until he's lying on his back with his head pillowed on Ohtori's thigh. He blinks up at him, "Why not?" he asks.

Ohtori frowns at him. "You know why. I want to give you a proper present, but you are going to have to give me a hint."

Shishido nods, thoughtfully. "Oh, I know," he suddenly exclaims brightly, "it ends with an x and one usually does it in a bed. Or on the table. Or in the shower. Or on the kitchen counter. Or against the wall. Or on the couch-"

After hitting Shishido with a cushion to shut him up, Ohtori says, half-mused but trying not to show it lest he encourages Shishido, "Serious, please. I have no idea this year."

Shishido shrugs. "I am serious," he says unrepentantly. 

"Ryou."

Shishido rolls his eyes and then tilts his head towards the screen right in time to watch the T-Rex snap up a man sitting on a toilet. Ohtori winces.

"Can I have a dinosaur?" Shishido asks after a moment. 

Ohtori pushes him and Shishido lands on the floor with a dull thud and laughter ringing through the house.

***

The next day Ohtori meets Hiyoshi for lunch. Ohtori pokes absentmindedly at his desert, while Hiyoshi does much the same, stirring his cake and whipped cream into a mangled mess that looks as though it already has been eaten before.

Both of them are tired. Ohtori's behind is _aches_. It had been a while since they did it the other way, but Shishido had been sweet and slow and careful. No, it was Ohtori begging himself hoarse to go harder that has him in his current predicament. Plus the fact that when Shishido puts his mind to it he can last _long_ if it means he gets to see Ohtori scream for more by the end.

Hiyoshi has a less hedonistic reason; that of trying to figure out how to be a good father for his four months old son. But that doesn't mean he's any less happy.

"How's Yasuo?" Ohtori asks him.

Hiyoshi is a master at keeping his expressions under control, but the merest mention of his son has him lighting up like a thousand watt light-bulb. "Great," Hiyoshi says, beaming, "he's starting to wake up less every night."

"That's good," Ohtori says lamely. He's happy for Hiyoshi, but he really doesn't know anything about babies besides that they cry, sleep, eat and poop all the time. 

Abandoning his mangled dessert, Hiyoshi looks at him thoughtfully and asks, "Don't you regret it?"

Ohtori blinks questioningly.

"Never getting to be a father?" Hiyoshi asks, trying to make his words sound as neutral as possible.

Ohtori looks at his ice cream. "Not really," he says. "I think Ryou does, a little, though."

That seems to confound Hiyoshi for a moment. "Really?" he asks.

Ohtori shrugs. There's no reason for him to worry; if there is anything he is absolutely, utterly and completely confident in it's Shishido and their relationship. But that doesn't take away the fact that he'd have made a great father.

"Huh," Hiyoshi adds with a cant of his head after a moment. Then he decides to switch topics; apparently the mere idea of Shishido Ryou creating small Shishido Ryous is too much for his nerves to handle. "About Shishido; are you still going to do that surprise party for him?" 

"If I don't kill him first, yes," Ohtori says.

"Are you two fighting?" Hiyoshi asks after an instant of dread-leaden silence. Their fights are almost as legendary as their dedication to each other. Almost.

"No," Ohtori says with a laugh. "He's just being very difficult about his birthday present. I don't know what to get him."

"Did you try asking him?" Hiyoshi says with a pointed rise of his eyebrows. After Ohtori's nod he asks, "And?"

"He wants a dinosaur," Ohtori sighs.

Hiyoshi blinks. "That's a tough one."

"Advice?" Ohtori pleads.

After a moment's thought Hiyoshi offers, "I get Kiki stuff like jewelry."

Ohtori gives Hiyoshi a look. The only adornments Shishido wears is wristbands. 

"Not really, huh? Uhm, I take her shopping sometimes," Hiyoshi tries again.

Leaning his chin in his cupped hand, Ohtori shakes his head in a negative. Taking Shishido shopping for clothes is not exactly a relaxing experience. It's better to let him go off by himself, so they don't get on each other's nerves. Ohtori is the type that spends a long time agonizing over an item, frowning at himself in the mirror and deliberating, while Shishido tends to rush in, grab what looks good and get back out. Usually he doesn't even try them on, he always buys his clothes too large anyway. The only thing he'll take seriously is shopping for jeans, CD's or tennis equipment.

"Sometimes I give her flowers?" Hiyoshi says.

"I can't give him flowers," Ohtori sighs. The worst part about that is that Shishido would try to thank him without looking too confused. What would Shishido do with flowers anyway?

"Oh!" Hiyoshi perks up, "I know!"

Ohtori straightens hopefully. 

Hiyoshi pauses dramatically, pokes a finger up in the air to emphasize the brilliance of his idea and says, "Lingerie." 

For the merest fraction of a second Ohtori has an image of Shishido in stockings superimposed before his mind's eye, the next he's bright red and exclaiming a horrified "Hiyoshi-kun!". 

  
by [**Namae_nashi**](http://namae-nashi.livejournal.com/)

He's mostly horrified by how much his brain was cheering at the sheer brilliance of that plan.

Hiyoshi leans back and says, "Gekokujou."

Ohtori flicks ice-cream at him.

***

Almost a month before his birthday Shishido had threatened Ohtori, deadly serious, that if he allowed _Atobe_ to organize any sort of get together he'd be sleeping on the couch until his balls froze off (Shishido's words, not his). Ohtori took the warning seriously and has managed to stave off any attempts Atobe has made so far.

So when Shishido leaves for his coaching session, Ohtori grabs the opportunity to send everybody an e-mail with the specifics for the party. As soon as he sits down Pancake hops into his lap and starts to purr to the rhythm of his typing. As it falls on a Tuesday it won't exactly be the most grand event of the year, but Shishido always did make friends easily, so there'll be enough of a crowd regardless. He sends a separate mail to Jiroh and Marui, who had already agreed to help out with the food. 

As he's working on that and agonizing about what to buy Shishido for a present, the phone rings. Ohtori picks up without checking the caller ID.

"Moshi moshi, Ohtori speaking," he says.

"It's me," his father says. 

Ohtori freezes and thinks, _fuck_.

"Hello father," Ohtori says politely, trying to sound anything but alarmed.

There's a hollow and slightly frosty silence.

Then his father says, "Am I calling at an inopportune moment?"

 _Yes_ , Ohtori thinks. 

"No," he says out loud. 

"Wonderful," his father says. "I am calling to inform you that Nakamura-san is visiting us next week. He has expressed hopes for you to join us for dinner, so I am expecting you to make an appearance."

After a moment of fishing for an excuse that sounds anything _but_ , Ohtori manages a somewhat chilly, "I suppose so."

"Good," his father says with great satisfaction. "You remember how greatly Nakamura-san contributed to the company, don't you? His daughter will attend as well. I've heard say she's grown to be a stunning young woman."

"Uh-huh," Ohtori says, but more coldly this time.

"I expect you to make sure she won't be bored with all the talk of business, of course," his father goes on, undeterred.

"Of course," Ohtori answers, ice in his voice.

"Very well," his father says, disturbingly cheerful. "We'll be meeting Tuesday at that French restaurant he so loved the previous time, I expect you can make it over there by yourself? Or do you need me to-"

"Father," Ohtori says after he's taken a deep, steadying breath. It's the same damn song every time. Ohtori has had enough of it. "You know I can't make it on Tuesday," he reminds him. There, that was calm.

"Why ever not?" his father exclaims, thrown.

What Ohtori hates even more is all this pretense. "You know why," he grounds out. After a pointed, almost challenging silence from the other side, Ohtori adds, "It's Ryou's birthday."

The silence continues. Ohtori refuses, absolutely _refuses_ to apologize. After all, it's no sudden whim of Nakamura-san to visit them. No doubt his father has maneuvered and connived months for the dates to coincide. 

"See here, I know Shishido-kun is your friend-"

Ohtori surges to his feet, violently dislodging Pancake who shoots under the table, hissing in outrage. The leather chair topples and crashes against the ground. " _Don't_!" he warns. "Just don't!"

"Choutarou-"

"Don't," Ohtori all but yells. "You know full well Ryou isn't just my friend. You know _I_ know that Nakamura-san isn't visiting with his daughter by mere chance on my _boyfriend's_ birthday." 

His father starts yelling back. "Don't you dare speak to me like that! Have you no respect? And have I not explicitly told you _not_ to talk about-"

"Get over it," Ohtori says, trembling all over in pure rage. "It's not going to change."

"Son, listen: if you'd come on Tuesday, for just a moment, maybe you'll find you actually like this girl-"

Ohtori snaps. 

***

"Let me guess," Shishido says when returns and sees the mangled remains of the receiver and Pancake still slinking around puffed up as though she was washed with the wrong laundry detergent. "Your father called?"

Ohtori feels bad about killing the phone. Those things cost money, after all. "Yes," he says softly.

Shishido nods and inspects the phone. His hair is still half wet from showering back at the tennis club. "Did you tell him I was terribly sorry for turning you to the dark side yet?"

There's a Star Wars joke in it, Ohtori knows, but those movies have never made any sense to him.

"Don't worry about it," Shishido goes on, his voice suddenly a lot warmer. Two hands settle on his shoulders and Shishido kneads. "I think I can fix the phone," he says. Hands rubs the tension away, caressing and massaging Ohtori until he's leaning into Shishido, boneless. _God_ , Shishido has always been so sinfully good with his hands.

  
by [**sirene-wanderer**](http://sirene-wanderer.livejournal.com/)

After a while Shishido asks him softly,"You didn't... fight with your father, did you?" 

The fact that Shishido, for some incomprehensible reason, will go to great lengths to keep Ohtori from fully rejecting his father, going even as far as to play the peacemaker, is even worse. Ohtori reaches up a hand and cups it over the one on his right shoulder. "Not really. I broke the phone before it could get to that," he admits.

"Murdered it, rather," Shishido says wryly. 

"Sorry," Ohtori says again. He forgets his own strength at times.

"Shut up with the sorry," Shishido tells him, pinching his sides playfully.

Ohtori yelps and looks over his shoulder to see Shishido walk towards his own bedroom. Likely to change into something more comfortable. He gets up and follows him. Leaning against the doorframe he watches Shishido tug his shirt off -and _dear merciful God_ when will that ever stop turning him on so? To Ohtori, Shishido always seems to be in the prime of his life. He looked great at fourteen, at eighteen, at twenty-one, but at twenty-five he looks absolutely gorgeous. Out of the whole ex-regulars team only Shishido and Hiyoshi exercise as much (and in Shishido's case more) as they used to in high school. It shows. 

"Ryou," Ohtori says.

The toned and slender cut of torso disappears under a rather over-sized sweater. "Hm?" Shishido hums.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Ohtori asks, for what must be the baziollionth time.

"Well," Shishido says as he walks up to him, "if I can't fix it, I suppose I'd like a new phone?"

"I want to get you something good," Ohtori says, genuinely exasperated now. 

Shishido does the thing which leaves Ohtori even after all these _years_ more than a little weak-kneed: he smiles, just a little, but his eyes burn with desire. There's a saying that goes 'if looks could kill', well Shishido's look would go, 'if looks could spontaneously make Ohtori come in his pants'. He steps close enough to crowd Ohtori, not touching, but radiating body heat at him oh so temptingly. 

"I know something good," Shishido murmurs, a rumble just short of a growl in his throat. 

"Don't say it," Ohtori warns mildly.

Shishido smirks. "Sex."

Ohtori grabs him. 

"Oi!" Shishido protests loudly as Ohtori lifts him off the floor (he hates that). "Goddammit Choutarou, put me down!"

"No," Ohtori says, taking two long strides and dumping Shishido unceremoniously on his bed. "I told you so," he adds, perfectly reasonable, as he crawls up the bed until he can pin Shishido on his back under him.

"The hell you think you're doing?" Shishido snarls, wriggling and struggling.

Pushing his hand up the loose sweater Ohtori runs his fingers over the smooth skin of Shishido's stomach, tracing the delineated muscles of his abdomen. Shishido stops fighting quite so hard as though he's trying to figure out whether this is going to be a good thing or a bad thing. "You want sex? I'll give you sex," Ohtori says, surprised at how low his voice suddenly drops.

"Oh," Shishido goes slack and perfectly relaxed. "Why didn't you just say so?" 

***

"You're insatiable," Ohtori tells him a little while later as the they lie nestled together on Shishido's bed with the sweat drying on them and everything smelling of sex.

Shishido stretches and then moves to lie on top of him. His skin is a searing blanket of heat and his weight sinks Ohtori further down into the bed. "Yeah, I bet you just hated that," Shishido says sarcastically. 

Flapping the edges of the sheets closed, Ohtori keeps them folded shut by wrapping his arms with the fistful of blanket over the small of Shishido's back. He hums and smiles as Shishido kisses his eyelids and combs his hair away from his forehead. Shishido moves his mouth lower, touching their lips together warm and chaste, one hand cupping Ohtori's face. 

"There, I got you sex," Ohtori murmurs after a while of trading light kisses. "Now what do your want for your birthday?"

Shishido props himself up to look down on him. "More sex?" he asks.

"Ryou, please," Ohtori says tiredly. "I really don't know what to get you."

There's a huff and Shishido nips at his neck, a sharp press of teeth that has Ohtori's body reacting more strongly than it should have after almost literally fucking Shishido into the mattress. "Look," Shishido says, drawing away and sitting up, blankets sliding away from them both. "We've been together for eight years. I really don't expect you to get me a gift, you know. We do this on each other's birthdays, on Christmas and on other occasions as well. Heck, even _I_ don't know what I want, I got everything."

Reluctantly agreeing, Ohtori nods. Shishido's room is packed with stuff: comic books, a life-time supply of tennis balls and racket strings, video-games, movies, a whole rack of CD's, some action figures and a bookcase overflowing with historical books. His desk is a disaster of stack upon stack of papers, assignments and books he needs to teach his classes. It rather looks like a teenager's room. Most of the time Pancake sleeps here, because even though this is Shishido's room, they sleep together in Ohtori's. 

"Still," Ohtori says, running his hands up and down over Shishido's legs. The muscles are bunched tight because he's kneeling as he straddles Ohtori. "I want to get you something."

"I'd really like a dinosaur," Shishido tells him again. 

"Oh sure, considered it noted. I'll just hop into my time-machine later. Anything else?" Ohtori grumbles.

Pretending to mull it over, Shishido rubs his chin and frowns. "Yeah, I got one," he says. And then, in an uncannily accurate imitation of Ohtori at thirteen, he says, "World peace."

Ohtori flushes and pushes Shishido off him. And then proceeds with smothering Shishido under him, his face a dull, pounding red. They struggle and roll around until Shishido, for once, wins and proceeds with kissing Ohtori's blush away.

Of course he remembers saying that, but that was the first thing he could think of besides the truthful 'Shishido-san' on the tip of his tongue. The fan-club had done interviews, asking the regulars what they desired most. Even then Ohtori had felt that his answer would have been considered strange and wrong, even though he himself hadn't known he 'wanted' Shishido the way he wants him now. Back then he figured that he just wanted to play tennis with him forever.

***

Two days before Shishido's birthday Ohtori finally gives and honestly panics.

Panics enough, in fact, to call Atobe. 

Shishido would never forgive him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Of Birthdays , Boyfriends and Dinosaurs  
**

That's how he ends up going out shopping with Atobe and Mukahi, the latter who invited himself. 

Ohtori knows he brought this down upon himself, but he can't help but feel an awful sense of foreboding. There is no way this can end well. Especially as Shishido and Atobe have been locked in a strange sort of power struggle which they express by getting each other the most ridiculous and down-right disturbing gifts ever. He worries what, exactly, he'll be taking home with him as present. At least he's glad Atobe left his small army of porters and personal attendants at home. 

Mukahi keeps up a steady flow of chatter, nearly talking Ohtori's ear off. 

The department store is crowded, but still manageable. Of course it helps that Ohtori's height makes people part before him in surprise. Mukahi is holding onto one end of Ohtori's scarf and trailing in his wake, still talking a mile a minute. Ohtori doesn't absorb much of his nattering, nor of Atobe's occasional commentary. No, Ohtori bites his lower lip and angsts about the present. 

"Well then," Atobe says after a while. "I've gathered you've already asked Ryou what he wanted, right? What did he say again?"

Ohtori heaves a deep sigh, "A new boyfriend, a different father-in-law, a new left index finger, a dinosaur and world peace."

"And sex," Mukahi chirps helpfully. "Don't forget about that."

Atobe raises his eyebrows superciliously. "Really?" he asks.

Ohtori wills his blush away unsuccessfully. He should've known Oshitari reported every single detail to Mukahi.

"Alright then," Atobe drawls out, clearly having expected better from Ohtori. "Problematic is that any of these desires aren't exactly store-bought, are they? You could have informed me of this earlier, Ohtori."

Inwardly Ohtori wonders what Atobe was expecting; if it could've been bought with money, he would've figured something out already. After all, he's been giving Shishido presents for eight years by now. He's not _that_ incompetent. But as Shishido doesn't really seem to want anything but Ohtori... yeah, it's an endless loop.

"Waitaminute-" Mukahi exclaims, an evil sort of spark in his eyes. "One of those things, technically, _can_ be bought."

A small hand clamps with shocking strength around Ohtori's wrist and Mukahi succeeds in physically towing Ohtori along. It's a short trek. One moment Ohtori is faintly spluttering in protest, the next he's choking on sheer embarrassment as he understands _what_ Mukahi was hinting at.

"I can't believe I took the afternoon free for this," Atobe mourns, massaging his temples.

Ohtori plants his feet right before the shop's threshold and refuses to move any further even though Mukahi is already inside and bodily hanging onto both ends of Ohtori's scarf in an attempt to tow him inside. The shop clerks give them a bemused look. One of them is shelving vibrators as long and wide as Ohtori's forearm, the other is putting a leather outfit made up out of only clasps and straps on a mannequin. 

"I can't go in there!" Ohtori gasps out as the scarf starts to strangle him.

"Why not?" Mukahi asks. "I shop here all the time, people just think I'm getting stuff for my girlfriend."

"Mukahi-san, I am _not_ going in there," Ohtori says with an air of finality. 

Mukahi grabs onto a BDSM display and hangs on with all his might. "Why not? They've got great manuals in here."

"I don't need a manual!" Ohtori grounds out, gasping for air breath the scarf winds tight around his neck. "I just want to give Ryou a nice present."

"They've got stuff in here he'll like, trust me!" Mukahi wheedles.

"No!"

"Act like a man, Ohtori," Atobe says and shoves him in the back. 

Ohtori teeters and then has no choice but to stumble across the threshold.

"Besides, I want to look around here," Atobe continues. "If you can't handle it, go and wait outside."

"Very Hyotei of you, Atobe," Mukahi says approvingly. 

Ohtori unwinds his scarf and heaves oxygen into his lungs, red in the face with humiliation but not leaving. Atobe's ploy worked: Ohtori doesn't want to bow and admit he's not man enough to enter a sex shop. But, God, what is he supposed to do here?

He should've asked Kabaji to help him.

Ohtori stands around feeling ridiculous, while Mukahi inspects a pair of handcuffs and Atobe asks the female clerk what their most popular sex-toy is. The few things he does look at mostly puzzle him as to what people would actually _do_ with them. Some stuff lights up and plays catchy tunes like a child's toy, while others look rather like bizarre pieces of modern art. Realizing he's more making a fool of himself by standing there mimicking a red stoplight; Ohtori starts to move around aimlessly, studiously ignoring Mukahi holding up a French Maid outfit to his front with a thoughtful air. 

"Should I get the feather-duster, too, you think?" Mukahi asks him.

Ohtori chokes and stutters. Mukahi bursts out in laughter and Ohtori realizes he's being teased. 

"Oh, c'mon, lets go outside, you big pussy," Mukahi says, still laughing but finally showing mercy. Ohtori follows him all too gladly.

"Atobe?" Mukahi calls over his shoulder.

"In a minute," Atobe dismisses them as he inspects what, to Ohtori, looks like a vacuum-cleaner. 

And things seem to get only worse from there on. Just as Ohtori is outside and trying to scrape together some dignity, there's a light call of, "Ohtori-kun! Gakuto-kun!" 

"Shishido-san!" Mukahi calls, surprised. There's only two people out there Mukahi would address as Shishido-san. And neither of them is named Ryou.

Ohtori wishes he would die on the spot.

"Hello boys," Shishido's mother says, beaming at them.

Ohtori is painfully aware he is standing in front of a sex shop that caters to the most disturbing kinks known to mankind, flushed red, with Mukahi by his side and his former buchou still inside buying small sex robots. Before him is his boyfriend's mother, looking for all the world more like Shishido's twin sister than anything else. Over the years the resemblance between mother and son became down-right eerie. 

"Hi," he manages to croak.

Mukahi is sniggering in unholy glee at his left. 

Inside the shop Atobe asks loud enough for them to hear: "So how many vibrations a second can it manage? And is it water-proof?"

Ohtori wants the ground to swallow him whole. This is worse than those dreams he sometimes has about going to work and realizing he's not wearing any pants.

"So," Shishido's mother says with a warm smile, "have you figured out a present for Ryou yet?"

"Uhm," Ohtori forces himself to say. "No, not really. I was just looking for one."

Mukahi nods enthusiastically. "And I was helping him!"

"Were you?" Shishido's mother says, and her eyes dart towards the shop.

Ohtori wishes for swift, painless death once more. Before him is the one parent that is supportive of their relationship and Ohtori is standing in the most unfortunate location ever.

"Gakuto-kun," Shishido's mother says after a moment. The small glimpse of the shop leaves her cheeks flushed. "Don't tease Ohtori-kun so," she admonishes.

"Sorry," Mukahi says quickly, but grins so wide it's apparent he's not sorry at all.

A deep sigh of relief leaves Ohtori. He gives Shishido's mother a grateful look. 

Just then Atobe comes sauntering out of the shop, looking very pleased with himself indeed. But as he spots Shishido's mother he falters. It is astounding to see the transformation that takes place. Atobe deflates, blinks and then turns on the boyish charm full-force.

"Shishido-san!" he exclaims and bows deep. "How wonderful to see you here! You look perfectly lovely."

Shishido's mother always has had that effect on the team. 

She bows back to Atobe and then turns in favor of speaking to Ohtori once more. "Ryou has mentioned you were" -she makes quotation marks with her fingers- "freaking out about a present."

Ohtori nods, feeling the tension leave him. "Aa. I still don't know what to get him," he admits.

As though this is the most interesting conversation he's ever participated in, Atobe nods avidly. Mukahi mostly rolls his eyes, but when he looks at Shishido's mother his face becomes uncharacteristically soft. In wordless agreement the four of them walk on, leaving the shop and all its horrors within behind. Shishido-san pats Ohtori's arm soothingly. Atobe and Mukahi's jealous eyes bore into Ohtori's back. 

"Did he give any hints?" she asks. She has to tilt her head back far to meet his eyes. Around her Ohtori always feels like some uncivilized boar. Shishido's mother is as delicate and lovely as a sakura petal; all slender and subtle curves, dark, shiny hair tumbling around her shoulders and eyes so dark and wide it is impossible to lie to her. 

"Not really," Ohtori says and gives Mukahi a warning glare to keep his mouth shut. Not that the redhead would _dare_ sully the air with any naughty talk around her. Better safe than sorry though.

"Nothing at all?" she presses.

"Besides world peace and a dinosaur, no," Ohtori answers.

Giving a scoff that is so like her son's it raises the hair on the back of Ohtori's neck, she sighs, "Just like his father, that boy."

Ohtori makes a vague agreeing noise and looks at the tips of his shoes. No use in countering a woman. Especially one that has three men wrapped around her little finger whom she rules with the iron fist of love. 

They walk in silence for a while, her small hand still on Ohtori's arm. She looks thoughtful, tapping the index of her free hand against her lips as she thinks. Suddenly she looks up at Ohtori, her smile as brilliant as the sun. 

"A dinosaur, he said?"

***

Shishido's mother and Atobe make such a powerful team Ohtori fears the shop clerk might just wet his pants before they're through with him. Atobe awes the man with his wealth, charm and titles, while Shishido's mother just smiles once and leaves the poor man to gape most besottedly at her for the rest of the conversation.

Everybody seems to think she's an angel descended from the heavens, _especially_ Shishido Ryou, but Ohtori knows better. That woman is as sharp and keen as the edge of a knife, no wonder Shishido's father (a bear of a man if there ever was one) runs to do her every whim.

Unable to watch the inevitable Ohtori walks along an aisle displaying video games and joins Mukahi in front of the dinosaur. It's life-sized, taller than Mukahi and most hideously realistic. 

Mukahi touches the rough skin and grins, "He's gonna love this."

Ohtori wonders if it just wouldn't be better to take his chances and go for lingerie after all.

***

On the 29th of September the alarm clock goes off at five, as it always does. And it wakes Ohtori up, as it always does. For a moment he blinks sleepily and then remembers today's the day. Tucking closer to Shishido he murmurs in his ear, "Happy Birthday."

Shishido buries his head in a pillow and growls, "Go away. I'm old. I'm twenty- _five_. It's the beginning of the end."

Smiling, Ohtori nuzzles into the warmth of his hair, neck and shoulders until he finds the sharp line of Shishido's jaw. He nips at it, teasingly, and says, "Poor you. I guess that means no more sex then."

Shishido twitches and then sits up straight, stretching. "No, wait. Fit as a fiddle, after all. False alarm." Then he flops back down into the pillows and rubs at his face. For a moment he is motionless before suddenly hopping out of bed and changing into the loose outfit he always dons to go running.

"Are you really going to get up at five to run on your birthday?" Ohtori asks, propping himself up against the headboard. Technically he doesn't have to get up. His alarm is set for seven and even then he still has an ample amount of time to get to work. Normally he doesn't let Shishido's alarm bother him, settling down for another two hours of sleep, but what with it being his partner's birthday he has a stomach full of nervous butterflies.

Besides the initial complaint, Shishido seems the same as always: disturbingly awake and energetic. And not even remotely nervous at all. "Why not," he answers. "Just a day like all the others."

Ohtori rubs the sleep from his eyes and gets up himself. Before he hunts for clothes he grabs Shishido and holds him for a moment. "Happy Birthday," he repeats. 

This time, Shishido responds with a husky, "Thanks," and turns in the circle of his arms. 

Fingers tangle in the chain of his cross and tug Ohtori down until their mouths meet. Ohtori keeps his eyes open, just a sliver, to watch Shishido's face. He likes the play of emotion on that familiar face; Shishido seems to frown, almost fierce, but at the same time he's terribly tender with soft, warm lips that part willingly when Ohtori slides his tongue along them. Eyelids fluttering shut, Ohtori lets Shishido pull him closer, lets him take and taste his mouth with a satisfied little rumble starting in the depths of his chest that builds into a growl. Shishido nips his lower lip, sharp enough to make it tingle, but goes on soothing it away by lapping and suckling gently. 

In the end it is Ohtori who is more than a bit dazed, stumbling into the closet when Shishido lets go, knees betraying him. And all the rest too, of course.

Naturally, Shishido has to go on and embarrass Ohtori. Taking one step, he crowds him and Ohtori has nowhere to go with cold wood pressing along his naked back. One hand he plants next to Ohtori's head, the other disappears to cup his aching erection. "I see you got me that present I wanted," he says with a smirk that would shame Atobe. "Such a big present, too. Aw, Choutarou, you shouldn't have."

Ohtori glowers at him, going red to his ears. Even worse is that this is _tame_ compared to some of the dirty flattery Shishido sometimes rumbles at him when they're having sex. But there he is, blushing like a virgin, knees trembling. 

Satisfied with a job well done Shishido steps back, plucks up his Ipod and waggles his fingers as he walks towards the door. 

After a minute or two... or ten... of pulling himself together, Ohtori decides it might not be such a bad idea to start the day with a freezing cold shower.

***

All things considered, it is for the best he got up that early. Everything seems determined to go wrong on the day things should be perfect. 

First of all some inconsiderate idiot has parked his car in his spot, despite it being marked with Ohtori's license plate. So he ends up parking his car three blocks away. Even then he's frightfully early; early enough that the secretary at the check-in is still too tired to try and flirt with him. Ohtori manages to finish one fat manilla folder by noon before everything goes to hell. Under any other circumstances he'd have turned off his phone. At work, he _works_ , unlike Oshitari who prefers to play Pac-Man. But as every single call has something to do with the party that evening, he doesn't quite dare.

Mostly it is just people calling to check the time they were expected to arrive, though Ohtori has meticulously contacted everybody with an update twice a week. Hiyoshi even told Ohtori to stop spamming his inbox, he already knew they were expected at six thirty. Apparently the rest of them lack the ability to read.

That's one thing, but another is a suddenly panicking Jiroh on the phone, whimpering and blubbering: "I killed the cake! I'm sososo sorry, I fell asleep in it. It looked so soft, you know, like a fluffy white pillow, but it wasn't, it was cream and I drooled in it-"

Of course Ohtori is panicking right along until there's a faint struggle and then a cocky, "Don't worry about a thing, Ohtori-kun. This tensai has everything under control, so don't- Hold on-" unsuccessfully Marui tries to smother what he screams next "-Jiroh! Don't lick that! Other people have to _eat_ from that tonight, _jeez_. Okay, I'm back. Where was I? Oh yeah-"

After that, Ohtori can't quite concentrate anymore.

Next is Shishido's mother. "Ohtori-kun! We've got a bit of a problem here..."

Ohtori thinks about the cake and drool and imbeciles not reading their mail and dinosaurs and groans, "Problem?"

"You see, I can't find that key you lend me yesterday. So now me and the nice man from the games store are standing in your drive with the dinosaur and I think your neighbors are contemplating calling the police."

And that's how half an hour later Shishido's mother is in the lobby to pick up the key. Oshitari won't be bribed with any amount of food to stay in his own office and insists on accompanying Ohtori. Simply so he can chat up Shishido's mother, of course.

"It must be my lucky day," he exclaims, ignoring Ohtori digging in his elbow viciously. "Such a vision of beauty to illuminate this dreary building of torture." He bows low over her hand.

"Hello to you too, Oshitari-kun," she says simply. 

Ohtori gives her his own house-key and asks her to hide it under the doormat when she's done with it. With a smile and a wave she's off. By then the first three floors have received intel of the sudden appearance of a goddess in the lobby and have converged there to watch her go with the hungry eyes typical of the over-worked, under-paid and sex-deprived salary man.

"You're lucky," says Ito-san from the second floor. "I wish I had such a sexy girlfriend."

Oshitari bursts out into laughter.

Ohtori grinds his teeth. It's not like he can come out and say; no, she's my boyfriend's mother. He doesn't want to loose his job. 

Another colleague leers and tosses Ohtori a conspiring wink. "You sneaky boy, you. Like older women, do you?"

Oshitari starts to shriek like a hyena.

Ohtori hopes he dies laughing.

***

To make matters worse Shishido calls.

"Hey, am I interrupting anything?" he says. His voice is warm like honey, intimate. No doubt he has this morning's 'moment' in mind.

"No, no you're not," Ohtori mumbles, massaging his temples as he frets about the cake and the dinosaur, but feels some tension drain out of him all the same. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," Shishido responds. "Look, I got off an hour early. My last class got cancelled as they're gone on a field trip of some sort. Anyway, I'll be done early... and I wanted to ask if you wanted to... if you have time and don't mind and stuff, of course, I understand if you're too busy and all, but-"

"Ryou," Ohtori interrupts, smiling despite himself. "What?"

"Uhm."

Ohtori can vividly imagine Shishido blushing and scratching his hair and trying to look all casual and cool.

"Do you want to go out for dinner?" Shishido mumbles so quickly he's struggling with getting the words out clearly. "Just the two of us."

"NO!" Ohtori yells, seeing all his plans collapse. 

There's a shocked silence on the phone.

"Oh," Shishido says, rather frostily.

 _Oh no. Oh, God, no._ How must that have sounded to Shishido? 

"Ryou, listen," Ohtori starts, hastily trying fix things before they explode in his face. 

"No, it's cool, don't worry about it," Shishido says, voice tight. "See you later."

He hangs up.

Ohtori lets his head drop to his desk with a resounding thunk.

***

Thankfully his manager lets him off early without Ohtori having to go down on his knees to beg for it.

"See you later," Oshitari calls out when Ohtori rushes past his office, struggling with his jacket and briefcase.

Ohtori doesn't answer and breaks out into a run. If Shishido gets home before him, the whole thing is ruined. 

The elevator is occupied. Ohtori curses and takes the stairs, jogging down them at neck-breaking speed, smacking into walls and railings as he does so. He bursts into the lobby, ignores the secretary's lilting goodbye call and pushes through the doors into a volley of heavy rain. 

He doesn't even notice.

See, the problem is that besides today's small accumulation of disasters, Ohtori still feels he hasn't gotten Shishido a good present. He knows he's worrying needlessly, he knows that Shishido will be beyond amused and touched to see the dinosaur and he also knows that Shishido truly would be happy if Ohtori just made love to him until neither of them could stand it anymore. He _knows_ that. 

But.

Shishido isn't just his boyfriend.

He is Ohtori's best friend, his partner, his lover, his _life_. 

It's just not good enough.

Ohtori thinks about what Hiyoshi said, tugs at his hair in frustration and then dashes into the sort of shop he's never had any need of visiting before now.

***

He makes it home in time. 

Ohtori showers, rushes about putting some things to rights, adds the finishing touch to the dinosaur and settles down to wait. Mukahi has been assigned with Shishido-sitting duty. Meaning he has to keep Shishido occupied and _away_ until it's time. That, at least, seems to go smoothly. After a quick call with the change of plans Mukahi had instantly sped off to intercept Shishido in time. Or Shishido truly was hurt and has decided Ohtori needs the silent-treatment. Either way, there's no sound of a key sliding into the lock.

Marui arrives, aquiver under the sheer weight of the birthday cake.

"It's drool-free, I promise," he says, shooing Jiroh away from it. "No thanks to Akutagawa here, though."

"It was an accident," Jiroh repeats earnestly.

Ohtori decides he'll take Marui on his word, simply because of the sheer size and brilliance of the cake. He's outdone himself. Drool or no drool.

At six thirty, the place is _packed_. Pancake hides in Shishido's room with the dinosaur, under the bed, hair on end. People step on one other's toes and occasionally trip over Jiroh, who's fallen asleep right in the middle of the living room. Atobe awes them all accordingly, resplendent in a smoke-white tuxedo which likely costs twice Ohtori's monthly salary. Oshitari oozes charm over Shishido's mother. Her oldest son, Sho, keeps a watchful eye on him from across the room. Hiyoshi has brought his wife and baby son along and most females present are accordingly 'oohing' and 'aahing' over him. Kabaji helps Ohtori out, serving drinks and re-filling plates. Taki flutters around from clique to clique like the social butterfly he is. Oishi and Kikumaru stand together, whispering to one other and not fooling anyone. Some of Shishido's colleagues, both from college and the tennis club, huddle together. There's laughter and music. 

Ohtori angsts. 

At quarter to seven Mukahi throws open the door with a flourish and shoves a blind-folded Shishido into the house.

"You think I'm deaf?" Shishido says after a beat of silence. "I could hear you lot defiling our house from a block away. And Yuushi? Stay away from my mom!"

All that he says _without_ taking his blindfold off. When he does, he looks around, grinning brightly. But the first person he walks up to is Ohtori.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi," Ohtori answers softly.

"I'm sorry," Shishido blurts quickly, as though the taste of an apology in his mouth is vile. But he does, anyway. "I should've known you where up to something."

"It's okay," Ohtori whispers back. 

Shishido is the last person on earth to engage in a display of public affection. He's very private about that, shy almost. People know they're together. Not everybody, but certainly each person currently present is, obviously, aware of that.

So when Shishido mumbles a rough, "C'mere," tip-toes and kisses him, not a rapid peck, but a true lingering kiss, Ohtori knows that every miserable moment of the past few weeks was worth it.

***

Shishido loves the dinosaur.

Really loves it.

Enough to even name it.

Ever since that day at the games store, Ohtori had half hoped that the dinosaur could've been played off as a practical joke. Despite knowing better in his heart, Ohtori had half convinced himself Shishido would laugh, amused and nothing more. Afterwards the dinosaur could've gone back to the shop. After all, what are they supposed to do with a life-sized velociraptor? 

Then again Shishido has his quirks.

So the dinosaur will have to stay, Ohtori supposes. He firmly impresses on Shishido that it will stay in _his_ room. There's no way he could ever take sex (or anything else, for that matter) serious if there was a velociraptor staring down at them. Not to mention falling asleep with that thing glowering at him in the dark.

Shishido agrees, saying, "Yeah sure, no prob. Now Pancake has Daisy to keep her company."

Daisy the dinosaur.

Ohtori shakes his head, smiling.

***

It's late. Tomorrow morning (or, correctly, this morning) will hurt. Ohtori wishes all birthdays would, somehow, always convene with a weekend or free day after.

Where Shishido gets the energy, he doesn't know, but his partner is actively clearing up the mess all by himself. Ohtori, in contrast, is dead tired. The stress of the past weeks, today's chaos and too much wine have relegated him to slumping on the couch. But it was beyond worth it. Seeing Shishido smile, relax and joke with his friends is all he could want. He'd go through it all again in a heartbeat.

"Ryou," he calls out. "Ryou, leave it. We'll clean tomorrow."

Some plates clink, bags crinkle and a cupboard is shut. Shishido comes padding into the living room. Eyes bright and alight, smile tugging sloppily at his mouth, he comes to stand before Ohtori. They look at each other for a moment. The lights are off and it is dark but for a few candles here and there. Their reflections dance merrily in Shishido's eyes.

Then Shishido kneels, oddly formal.

A hand skitters along his thighs, until it finds one of Ohtori's. Shishido tangles their fingers and then draws them towards his mouth. Bowing his head, he kisses the back of Ohtori's hand. Chaste and dry, but lingering.

"You're really something," Shishido tells him, voice hoarse with sincerity. On his knees at Ohtori's feet, cradling his hand like that, Shishido rather looks like a prince out of a fairy tale. If princes are allowed to be mussed, slightly drunk, barefoot and occasionally rude. "Thanks, Choutarou," he adds after a moment of Ohtori's speechless gaping. "You really didn't have to go that far."

"I know," Ohtori manages after a moment. 

Shishido sighs contentedly and then tips his head forwards to drop it in Ohtori's lap. After a moment, he moves his hands to comb through Shishido's hair, to trace the arch of his brow, the jut of his cheekbones, his fine, straight nose, the bow of his lips. They sit like that for a while, though it is getting even later still. It's dark and warm, everything is glowing with the slight flicker of flames. 

  
by [**Namae_nashi**](http://namae-nashi.livejournal.com/)

Shishido is warm against his legs. He probably has drunk enough to be capable of dozing off kneeling like that. Just as Ohtori thinks to poke him to see if he's already asleep, Shishido stirs, turning his face and sliding closer so his nose brushes Ohtori's lower stomach through his shirt.

"Hey, Choutarou?"

"Hm?"

"You know, I wasn't joking."

"About what?"

Shishido presses even closer, hiding his face. "Uhm. About the sex. I don't mean to sound coarse or ungrateful, or whatever, I really don't. But, well, you really don't need to get me a present anymore. If you just... yeah. " he trails of. After a moment he finishes with, "It'd be more than enough for me."

Ohtori can feel the burn of Shishido's blush like a brand through his clothes.

In his own really strange and blunt way, Shishido can be romantic. Despite what Oshitari says. At least, Ohtori thinks so. It's not pretty words and grand declarations and flowers and chocolates or whatever it is Oshitari thinks needs to be present. But to Ohtori, it's more than enough too.

"I know," Ohtori echoes once more out loud, trailing his fingers slowly through the thick brush of hair.

And maybe it is rather pathetic that even the slightest mention of sex with Shishido has Ohtori mind going into overdrive. Add to that the fact that said person's head is still in his lap, breath gusting hot against his skin through the fabric, his cheek pillowed right on his crotch... which must be becoming quite uncomfortable now, what with Ohtori getting painfully hard and all.

He doesn't need to look down to know Shishido is smiling, rough and satisfied. "I believe you still owe me a present," he says and moves his head so his mouth is grinning against the hard column of his erection in his slacks.

They should go to bed and sleep. It's _late_. 

Ohtori knows this.

But...

How the hell is he supposed to be the rational one and lift Shishido's increasingly bolder mouth away? The mere idea isn't rational at all. Nothing makes more sense than letting Shishido have his way and let him... _God, oh_ GOD. Ever impatient and with no immediate refutal from Ohtori's part, Shishido seems to have decided that any further conversation is over-rated and is attempting to suck Ohtori right through his pants.

"Ryou," he manages, still surprised at how low his voice can drop.

There's a hot gust of breath over his cock as Shishido rubs his mouth along him. "Shh, can't you see I'm busy?"

Ohtori laughs, half-choked and then fully strangled when Shishido fingers make rapid work of his belt and zipper and... just about everything actually. Next thing Shishido has him in the hot, velvet soft suck of his mouth. It is all Ohtori can do to not buck up and he just might have if his partner hadn't moved his hands to clamp them firmly around his hips, keeping him grounded. It is still not enough, because _this_ , this is too much. Shishido parting his lips further to take him deeper, calm, enjoying himself, tasting him with his tongue laving along his length, too intense, and such a contrast to how Shishido moves his thumbs in soft, tiny strokes against the arch of his hipbones framing his stomach.

Looking at that, Shishido going down on him as he kneels on the floor, is too much, too amazing, and Ohtori manages a strangled groan as his hands move to tangle in already messy hair.

And, _oh God, oh God, oh, dear, merciful God_ , he can _feel_ Shishido smile around him at that noise.

Sure, this should look shamelessly wanton of them, but honestly? With Shishido kneeling before him like that, taking pleasure in Ohtori's pleasure, with his shirt loose and gaping in the nape of his neck, showing the vulnerable bumps of his spine arching away into shadows, his skin smooth and bare... It's simply beautiful. Aroused though he may be, so close he's murmuring nonsense, Ohtori moves one hand to cup Shishido's face. Compared to his partner's, he has big hands, though more slender and delicate seeming. So when he spreads his hand against the side of Shishido's head it covers everything easily from the slice of his jawbone to the silky hair.

Of course this means he can feel Shishido bob his head, slowly, his cheeks hollowing as he draws back up and away for the barest instant, just so he can a place a nudge of a kiss at the tip his head. Following this sudden shock of cool air is the wet warmth of his mouth dragging down him again, tongue pressed up against the underside of his cock. 

Ohtori feels he's teetering on the brink of orgasm, gasping shamelessly with his head thrown back, but part of him recalls the original bargain and he pushes against Shishido's head gently. "You're going to make me come," he manages, his voice thick and fuzzy around the words.

Pulling away with an almost obscene slurp, Shishido sits back down on his knees and simply looks up at him. His eyes are wide, pupils drowning out all color, candle licks of flames reflecting in them and his lips wet and swollen. Despite that, he gazes at Ohtori with such fierce gentleness, it's almost enough to push him clear over the edge after all.

"Stop looking at me like that," Ohtori tells him, "you're making it worse."

"Looking like what?" Shishido asks, his brows knitting into a frown. 

Ohtori laughs, shaking his head and reaches for him. 

Still frowning Shishido moves to straddle him on the couch, into his lap. They kiss, deep and consuming at first, Shishido's tongue curling into his mouth, their hands clenching in each other's hair and then moving along the sides of their torsos, leaving numbing trails of fire in their wake. And after they kiss lightly, brushes of lips, little suckles of kisses, as Ohtori works on Shishido's buttons. Each one undone reveals more of that warm, smooth skin and Ohtori touches each newly bared patch, marveling at the feel under his palm, even though he knows this body as well as his own. 

Undressing, to them, is always a battle of trying to deny physics, but having to separate long enough in the end to at least remove their pants. As soon as he's out of his, Shishido is back in his lap, clinging at him, as though close is just not close enough.

Ohtori feels the same.

"Ryou?" he asks, arms coming up to pull Shishido even closer.

Shishido kisses him, sweet, with his lips just skimming Ohtori's and murmurs back, "Like this, please," he falters for a moment when Ohtori find his cock and wraps his hand around him, "just like this, please."

There's no need to point out that this is _his_ favorite position, Shishido on top and yet still with Ohtori inside of him. He doesn't need to because his lover looks at him, desperate and scorching, his body already rocking softly, their cocks sliding together languid and good between their bodies.

Ohtori can't say anything at all. He can only swallow and slide his hand over that expanse of skin, one moving in a teasingly slow pace on Shishido's cock, which is hard and slick with need, and the other sliding over the defined chest before him.

Shishido's low growl breaks mid-way when Ohtori moves his lips to mouth at a nipple, a soft slick of tongue with a sharp nip of teeth at the end. Dark hair tickles his neck when Shishido tucks his head in the curve of his shoulder, drawing even closer. In response Ohtori presses a kiss into his hair before licking his own hand slick with saliva and then palming Shishido's erection. 

It reduces Shishido to an agonized rumble of; "Please, Choutarou, please, just... _please_."

He runs his hands soothingly across the sides of Shishido's torso, nuzzling into that thick brush of hair. "Yes," he hisses and then blinks, momentarily confused when Shishido presses the slightly chilly bottle of lube in his hand. 

Only then occurs to Ohtori just how much Shishido meant it, perfectly literally:

 _Sex_.

It seems that Shishido really didn't desire anything other than this, this almost agonizingly _right_ coming together. Wanted it bad enough to have, at some point this evening, have slipped a bottle of lube in the pocket of his pants.

Softly he moves his hand up and down, loving how Shishido throbs in his hand, hard and slick and so, so ready. Shishido is dragging his mouth in a slick path across his shoulder and neck, fighting a losing battle with himself to simply bite down and leave a mark. Ohtori's other hand fumbles, until Shishido helps him out, to coat his fingers slick enough so they can slide inside without too much pain. 

Always, always it seems to hurt Shishido a little. The corners of his eyes tighten and his mouth trembles against Ohtori's when he slides one finger inside. 

And always Ohtori goes slow and careful now, no matter how ready Shishido might seem, no matter how close he himself might be. Slowly, cautiously, he prepares him, not paying any mind just how much Shishido growls and curses him. Not until he has three fingers inside and Shishido is sobbing against his mouth for more, does Ohtori start to curl his fingers, searching, looking-

"Fuck! God, oh, goddammit!" Shishido yells against his mouth, in between kisses. "If you don't, shit, don't do _something_ right now I'm going to be the one doing the damned fucking tonight! Get it? Get- oh. _Oh_." 

Shishido trembles under his hands and Ohtori peppers his mouth with small kisses, as he withdraws his fingers and allows Shishido to hitch closer and wrap a hand around his cock, letting him urge them towards the last vestige of joining. For an instant he pauses, holding Ohtori in place, pressure already building at the tip. The way Shishido looks at him is so intimate, so soft and simple, it both seems to break something inside of Ohtori and yet that rend is instantly filled with the intensity of that look. Shishido always looks so amazed, filled with wonder, when they teether on the brink like this. 

And then he pushes down, onto Ohtori, pressure becoming a burn almost against his cock, before he slides free into the hot clinging heat of Shishido's body.

Shishido stops, his face twisting and mouth dropping open.

"Careful," he manages on a hiss of a whisper. "Go slow."

"Shut. Up." Shishido snarls at him, but keeps still, adjusting. 

Beneath Ohtori's hands the muscles of his body are drawn taut as a bow, caught between pain and pleasure. As wonderful a vista this position provides for the both of them, it comes at the cost of a penetration so deep and intense it always hurts Shishido at the very start. Gradually though, Shishido rests more weight onto him so he slides inch by agonizing inch into him.

Shishido is tight, a searingly hot cling of body around him and Ohtori is torn visually between his hands cradling Shishido's hips, huge in comparison to the slender flex of body they are holding, and the sight of Shishido looking at him as he sinks down onto him, eyes wide and unguarded. Ohtori is taking open-mouthed breaths before he is fully sheathed inside, but when he is, it's all he can do from coming right then and there.

Of course, Shishido isn't helping what with the slow steady rock he sets as a pace in the cradle Ohtori's lap, legs winding around his middle to force them even closer.

"Slow... _down_..." Ohtori begs, "Or it's going to be over really fast."

Shishido just bucks into him, sliding down just that very last fraction and Ohtori scrambles for every last bit of control within him. 

"Now Choutarou," Shishido growls against the curve of his ear. "Now, or I'm flipping you over."

Really, what are his options but obey?

So he cants his hips up, sharp and almost reprimanding. In response Shishido presses their foreheads together and the thrusts become short and fast, enough to make Ohtori babble Shishido's given name and enough for Shishido to drop his mouth to his shoulder and bite; a nibble at first.

After that everything blurs.

Shishido still does that to him. 

Arms hold him close, Ohtori's head resting near enough to hear the frantic staccato of Shishido's heartbeat, while Shishido's nibble becomes a bite on his shoulder. He can taste sweat, salty and clean, on his lips when he presses a kiss against the fluttering pulse point under his lips. His thrusts become ragged and deep, and Shishido bites down hard, sharp enough to mark.

Feeling Shishido worry a mark into his skin, suckling and rumbling a growl at him, Ohtori lets his hand follow the plane of that quivering stomach until he can curl it once more around Shishido's cock. It's not nice and smooth. It's erratic and desperate, with their mouth finding each other again, though they don't do as much as just breath each other's air instead of kiss. The paces don't march; Ohtori's hand moving too slow and clumsy, while his body surges up and down smoothly and hard.

Shishido says his name, rough and breaking over it, until it could be a plea or a curse. Whatever is happening, or how it is happening, Shishido sobs and gasps and shudders towards him, spilling himself throbbingly hot between them.

After that Ohtori has to let go, has to allow himself to move blindly into him, over and over, until it hurts and yet floods his body with pleasure so wild he can only whimper Shishido's name as he comes, fire and honey combined as he jerks hot, fast and finally melting into Shishido as he comes in a rush that feels like the pulse of his body and the blood rushing through it. 

Vaguely, he can hear himself scream, rough and low and so unlike himself it even manages to surprise him for a moment.

When it is over, or rather, when Ohtori manages to absorb some real-time information again, the both of them just cling onto each other, hands slipping on sweat-slicked skin. Shishido slumps against him, kissing his neck and gasping as though he's just run twice his usual morning-traject. After a moment he visibly winces and shifts to let Ohtori slip out of him.

"Hurt... you?" Ohtori manages between desperate inhales for oxygen.

Shishido stirs enough to kiss him soft and careful, both of them too sensitive for anything more. Then he goes ahead and smashes the sheer shivering tenderness by flashing him a decidedly toothy smirk. "Nothing I didn't want," he says, stealing a rough kiss from Ohtori's parted lips. "Thanks."

"Okay," Ohtori agrees, mapping Shishido's wiry body between his hands. "Was it alright?"

Shishido bites him again, hard and stinging.

" _Ouch!_ Hey, why-"

"Was it alright?!" Shishido exclaims, glowering down at him. "Were you even there?"

"I'm just aski-"

"How did that feel to you, hm, Choutarou? Was that 'alright', to you?" he demands sliding back further onto his legs so he can level a scowl at Ohtori.

"No, it was-" Ohtori doesn't have any words to describe it. "It was, simply... _wow_. It felt so-"

Shishido doesn't let him blunder any further. "Yeah, exactly. I was _there_ , remember?"

"Okay," Ohtori agrees again, soothingly. When Shishido is wild and volatile like this, it's because he still hasn't gathered himself enough to opt for a steadier course. Which means he must've made Shishido feel good enough to have him metaphorically fly apart at the seams.

After a stern look, as if daring Ohtori to object, Shishido curls up and settles against him, going relaxed and limp in an instant. One hand is in Ohtori's hair, slowly combing it away.

They should go to bed and sleep. It's _late_. 

Ohtori _knows_ this. Really, he does.

But...

With Shishido shifting against him like that, gloriously naked, and his own body _still_ humming with aftershocks, what else is he to do but allow himself to be tucked close, Shishido spooning him? There's a mouth planting kisses in his nape and arms wrapped around him and the couch is _really_ no place to sleep... but. He can't say no to this. 

Shishido is a hot brand against his back, holding him almost protectively, lips still moving on his neck. Ohtori feels his eyelids grow too heavy, feels his breathing synchronize with that of the person behind him. 

So with a last effort he tangles a hand with Shishido's and murmurs, "Happy Birthday."

There's no answer. Shishido is fast asleep.

And yet there's a smile pressed into his skin.

 _Well_.

It seems that, in the end, Ohtori would've just fared better listening to Shishido from the very start. But he didn't and now there's a dinosaur in Shishido's bedroom.

It could've been worse.

It could've been a new boyfriend.

It could've been going shopping together.

It could've been _lingerie_.

...not that lingerie would've been _that_ bad.

Ohtori smiles and thanks his lucky stars Shishido can't read his mind.

 

_-Owari-_

  


Three days later, Shishido notices.

  


By that time Shishido has stopped wincing when he sits down, Ohtori has nearly ceased feeling so guilty and Oshitari is finally getting tired of the innuendo-laden teasing he started to lave onto Ohtori when he stumbled into the office on the 30th, exhausted and much, _much_ too late. Of course the love-bite that could only be hidden under a scarf or a high turtleneck-sweater on his neck combined with his big, dopey smile hadn't helped.

And also by now the both of them have caught up on sleep again... more or less.

Anyway, Ohtori settles down at the piano and clears his mind until it is a tranquil pool of peace. 

He always goes through this before he sets his fingers to the keys and Shishido leaves him to it; he knows better than to interrupt. From the moment he sinks his fingers down and lets the music simply drag him away and drain him into the melody; Ohtori knows of nothing else but that.

By the time the last shuddering note of music trembles into stillness, Ohtori has lost two hours of pouring himself into it. And he recalls nothing but that.

The first thing he becomes aware of (as always) is Shishido's presence. If his partner isn't there, the first thing Ohtori feels is his absence. 

Now though he can hear Shishido mutter angrily at his students' essays. No doubt he is wielding his red marker with a vengeance; Ohtori has seen him work with that pen and knows Shishido is a terror with it. He's not needlessly cruel to his students, but he can't tolerate laziness or sheer stupidity if the answers were spelled out literally in the previous lecture. Also his responses are always mildly sarcastic in such cases, as sharp on paper as in real life, but also guiding and provoking the student into questioning and thinking deeper to grasp the answers, obvious though they may be, for themselves.

Either way, it seems today's batch is spectacularly bad.

Shishido stomps past him _twice_ , while Ohtori is still puzzling his senses together behind the piano, to get more coffee.

His scowl his completely genuine.

Ohtori smiles a little and pushes back from the bench to settle down and watch some TV, maybe. Just as he sinks down -on the selfsame couch they had such mind-blowing sex on, no less- Shishido calls out: 

"Saa, Choutarou? There's something really strange about the dinosaur."

Ohtori's heart skips much too many beats to be healthy. "Is there?" he manages blandly.

"Yeah, well," Shishido sounds deeply confused. "You see, there's... actually, just come and see for yourself."

He's never been good a pretending, especially where Shishido is concerned. But as he walks into Shishido's room, the aforementioned is scratching his hair and frowning, too caught up in his observations to notice the tremor in Ohtori's fingers.

"What is it?" he asks and hears how unsteady his voice is.

Shishido glances at him, quick and worried, but then relents and nods his chin. "Daisy's wearing a ring," he says.

"Is she?" Ohtori responds, his voice strangled.

"Yeah," Shishido says and reaches out to touch the band of silver around her smallest claw. "Hey, where did you get her? I bet some lady somewhere is freaking out right now."

He knows a moment of deep unease. The fact that Shishido links 'ring' with 'lady' will most likely mean he'll throw a fit when he figures it out. "Huh, I didn't notice that before," he chokes out instead.

Shishido looks at him strangely, no doubt wondering what is bothering him so. After a moment he goes on, "Why would anybody put a ring on a dinosaur, though?" he mutters to himself, still carding a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, that's very strange," Ohtori says, hoarse and shaking.

Shaking bad enough even to draw Shishido's attention completely towards him like a too intense laser-beam. "Hey, you okay? You sound upset."

"I- I, I. I..." Ohtori stutters himself to a halt before he can burst out with an explanation that would only muddle things up worse.

"What's wrong?" Shishido presses. "Is something.... hey. Wait." His eyes move, narrowed, from Ohtori to the ring and back.

Then he goes, " _Oh_."

"Do you-" Ohtori doesn't finish with 'like it', because Shishido has moved to draw the ring off the dinosaur's knobby claw. He turns it over in his hands, thoughtfully.

After work, that day, Ohtori had picked the plainest, simplest and most perfectly unadorned silver ring the jeweler's sold.

He jumps when Shishido pushes the ring at him and feels sharp pain of rejection. It slices so deep and true his eyes grow warm and his insides strangle him from within.

But then Shishido pokes him and demands, rough but smiling, one hand offered, "C'mon, then. Let's see if it fits." 

Shishido doesn't say anything when Ohtori clears his throat and takes a deep breath. Doesn't say anything when he takes Shishido's hand and slips the ring unto his finger, the second from the left, on his left hand.

It fits.

Both of them can see the glaring symbolism of this gesture. Ohtori blinks against an entirely different sort of emotion this time around, while Shishido just frowns, vaguely startled. Almost Ohtori begins to doubt whether Shishido is connecting the dots the same way he is, but then Shishido says with a loose smile, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

Ohtori goggles at him.

There's a shift of eyes and Shishido smirks. "You're the wife," he says simply and walks away to finish his grading.

"I... what?" Ohtori manages after a moment. "I put that ring on _your_ finger, doesn't that-"

"Get over it," Shishido says cheerfully, uncapping his pen.

Ohtori stands gaping some more, before grinning and _tackling_ Shishido onto his desk. There's howling and cursing and papers flying up into the air everywhere, but in the end both of them end up on Shishido's bed, whispering and straining together. Daisy or no Daisy.

Well.

It could've been much, _much_ worse.

_-fin-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ART FOR OF BIRTHDAYS, BOYFRIENDS AND DINOSAURS:  
> [Choutarou and the dinosaur (wearing the ring!) by oriaon/perimones](http://perimones.deviantart.com/art/Of-Birthdays-Boyfriends-and-Dinosaurs-308738460)  
> 


End file.
